Josie's News Memoir
by Penny Lane 1776
Summary: Josie's News Memoirs is a riches to rags story. We met Josie at the end of the road, follow her story from Brooklyn to Manhattan, to Queens and out of NYC. It's the story of love, heartache, a new life and new chances. Please R&R! Updated 03-01-2008.
1. Prologue

_**Author's Note: This is just another shot at posting this instead of waiting for myself to finish, perhaps if I can find some interest I can get myself going on writing. Please feel free to comment. I know the story in itself is a bit melodramatic, but hey isn't that what makes us read? Drama, intensity, lies, heartbreak, love, happiness, ect? I'd say this is the first time I'm actually reediting so forgive me if it's still real sketchy at times. So please won't you sit back and enjoy one heck of a tale!**_

_**I have reformated this prologue for hopefully easier reading.Thanks to those of you have started reading already and commented I truly appreciate it and to new comers please enjoy! **_

**DISCLAIMER---The majority of the newsies (NAMES!) in this story are from Walt Disney's film "Newsies" I am in no way taking credit for them as my characters. Moon, Rat, Vicky, Tub's…ECT. Are all my characters and I do take credit for them. Thank you Disney for making such an amazing movie.**

**_---This is for anyone who has fallen in love with this movie as well…_**

_Jocelyn, March 5th, 1900_

_As you may have noticed since your eyes must be viewing this document, you have been left to fend for yourself. Here is the warning-DO NOT COME HOME. Do not ever try to come back to 5th Avenue, or to contact any immediate family members or us. The decision to let you simply disappear from our lives was not made quickly, but with much thought and planning. Yet simply in the end we should all realize, especially you, yourself that you are not cut out for the wealthy elite's life here in the East. You have your deceased father's spirit and with it, I believe you will never get anywhere in life. For anyone who may ask of your disappearance the explanation shall be simple and almost truthful. You ran away with a dreadful lower rated Street Rat for a so-called glory life, your secret love of sorts, it is where you have always belonged blatantly._

_ You'll be sixteen at the end of May and at that age, you should be able to one way or another fend for yourself. Yet, while it may mean selling yourself, then thatf is what you most likely will have to comply with. Perhaps these streets of Brooklyn, which I have left you upon will end your pathetic existence. Now if you have yet taken this much and let your damned mind wander as to what would happen if you come home---well Jocelyn simply your terrifying death that has been arranged, as a second plan will go into working effect._

_ We both know that my connections with the law of New York City is strong and rather quite influential; there will always be an watch out for you near the residence if you decide a pursuance to come back. You may have had the fortune to be born into money but I promise you that you will die within poverty, never again are you to enjoy the extras, which forth come from wealth. And if you believe Jocelyn Anne Williams that your father's family name will save you, you are wrong; your siblings have also disbanded you from their life. _

_Your "Williams" name was long ago disbanded when your father died, perhaps out in the far west where your so called father's blood which has also forgotten you resides in the horizon the "Williams" name still carries spite and power, but here in New York City the "Franklin" name is the one which you've to fear. You know I will carry out any punishment to keep you away from MY family. Evelyn, Roger, and Melissa are all young but they are wonderful and of my blood. You and I both know your mother has never had any love for you and, whether you admit the truth you know deep within yourself it is the goddamned truth. _

_Your father, the pig, the horrid human, the no good son-of-a-bitch wasn't worth a damn. Personally speaking, and being from his stock you aren't worth a penny-you'll be off of this earth sooner than later. Your brother Elliot has disbanded this family long ago for a run away to Europe to escape my wrath and power. He is a scoundrel whose blood is thick with pure poison as is yours. And yet you're once upon a time sister Victoria Marilyn chose the right path by accepting my name, and I as her ruler, and then to marry the man I proposed for her._

_ You though, on the other hand have always been a constant thorn in my side, which we (your mother and I) cannot deal with in our daily existence any longer. You saw how we disowned Elliot--have the past two years shown that we ever knew him, no we forgot him the day he ran like a coward. In your heart you cannot lie and you didn't already know that if you did not heed to my rule that you would not be forgotten or worse…your fall to the street rat's and such must have been somewhat expected, this is just a fall we are willing to throw you down into. If you have still naught to catch my extremely obvious point you naïve girl, it is that my point is this-you are worth nothing to us-your mother has disowned you, your father died and his family abandoned you through his death, and if you ever try to stupidly reclaim us as your family, THEN your life will become more of a living hell on earth than one could ever imagine or believe._

_ If I see, hear, or know of you I will carry out my threats, make sure to stay clear of my path you had your chances. Stay away and be glad I let you keep the one piece of luggage for your "trip." I always did know what was best for you!_

_Your Step-Father,_

_Arthur Matthew Franklin_


	2. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Alright 3 reviews in the first day of repost has definitely made me want to continue to repost and add on the new stuff no one has really ever read except for my best friend who pushed me to post it back up. Thank you so much to you lovely folks who have commented please keep it up I truly appreciate it! Best Wishes and Enjoy!_

**DISCLAIMER---The majority of the newsies (NAMES!) in this story are from Walt Disney's film "Newsies" I am in no way taking credit for them as my characters. Moon, Rat, Vicky, Tub's…ECT. Are all my characters and I do take credit for them. Thank you Disney for making such an amazing movie.**

**---This is for anyone who has fallen in love with this movie as well…**

The girl refolded the hateful letter, and slipped into her satchel, afraid of what would come of her next. She did not know this part of New York City; she didn't know much about New York in general, as before this never had she been allowed to leave the area of high society. Brooklyn already terrified her and she had only been here for an hour. How foolish she had been sitting waiting for her stepfather to come back. She should have known the second he handed her satchel with a letter enclosed. She had always known the day would come when her mother finally gave into her stepfather's pleas to rid of her. Her mother never had had any love for her, not even at birth, for to her mother she was the unwanted child, another girl. Then when her mother refused her, her father whom she had loved so much had taken her completely into his arms literally and metaphorically speaking and with the help of his parents raised her, his devotion to his little daughter had been completely true. Then two weeks after her father's death her mother had remarried to a man from the first moment of marriage had hated her with a passion. Only two weeks after his death which had shattered the girl into pieces each harboring pain and hurt.

Now the girl did not cry even though she felt truly vulnerable. It seemed even the slight breeze could torture her slender figure. She stepped out into the streets of Brooklyn, they had seemed much busier only minutes earlier, suddenly, and now the streets seemed to have come to a dying halt with few people passing. Feeling nervous in the sunset of the day, the glint of sunlight fell on her, overtly warming the chill she had gotten from reading the letter of pure hatred. A letter one only read in the worse melodramas, it hardly seemed possible fiction could be made true, she sighed and nodded her head slightly towards no one, and yet such hatred was possible, so very possible.

She walked for only a block and half towards anywhere but the station she was leaving behind. She honestly had no idea where to go, what to do, the last thing she would ever do was sell her body, she'd die before that, what a wretched life, how could one look at themselves in the morning and have any dignity left if they let a man pay them for a night's worth of usage.

Her mind was blank and fighting to reclaim her thoughts when she heard a whistle and laughing behind her. No one had been behind her earlier she noted mentally. She slowly turned and faced a guy a bit taller then her but he couldn't be much older then her, by only a few years at the most. He wore a striped shirt, with black pants held up by red suspenders, a gold-capped cane being held in his hand and dark pageboy news cap upon his head to finish the look. His eyes were a steel gray blue and his face set tight against any true emotion being filtered through.

"Well ain't you a pretty princess…a dollar ya goin' rate?" The girl looked into his face fully stunned by what the comment insinuated. Confused and angry at the same time she registered his blatant comment somewhat but not to extreme fullness as she let her anger take over. Dropping her bag, her palm swiftly raised and connected with an extremely harsh slap to the commentary's face, leaving a read hand print which did not fade immediately. Her eyes widened and stunned, she fell back a few steps in a meager attempt to regather herself and to get away. The owner of the face reacted quickly and harshly grabbed her wrists and yanked her violently towards him, not seeming as tall and strong as the other boys she saw out of the sides of her eyes, yet there and then at that moment he seemed like the strongest then.

A group of ten to fifteen boys were gathered and gathering closer around the two, they were all dressed somewhat similarly to her captor. Some boy's faces were filled with awe, surprised such a little thing would stand up to whom she had, and others grinned and found a sick pleasure in seeing how things would play out with Mr. Quick to Temper. The question on everyone's mind was whether he would actually smack her back.

The guy who held her wrists tightly quickly responding to her previous action let one of his hands fall away from her and raised it to reprimand her. To repay the harsh slap to the face, only his was intended to be much harsher, as a remembrance for her to never try this with him again. She held her face straight and almost in a proud physique, but she squinted her eyes as if it would somehow lessen and repose some of the immense pain she knew she was about to feel. Her stepfather had slapped her face numerous times, it was his "polite" way to show her; he was in command, she hadn't ever learned, as he said that he was her boss, her ruler. She was not one to normally disrespect people but at times, when put upon the spot, she was quick to anger and act on fearful impulse. Although she felt accustomed to a harsh slap upon her face, knowing exactly where it hurt the most, and the least on her face when she was battered by an outraged smack. She silently prayed this person in front of her completely controlling her for the moment wouldn't slap her across the jaw, as recently her stepfather had slapped her there continuously it caused her jaw to ache often at night and feel ablaze after an encounter.

He saw her do this, and knowingly registered that she knew what would happen; only people who had some sort of a regular beating of some kind would hold their self so steady. This is why she wasn't screaming, yelling, crying out for help, he thought she felt if he just did what he wanted he'd let her go. He began to motion his hands to directly hit her in the jaw, when his damned consciousness pricked him, he could not hit a female, not one like this, not a girl who had acted out of fear. He lowered his hand, and felt his crowd wonder almost outloud in surprise. He rejoined his free hand with his other one, which was keeping his angry grip tight on her wrists, she winced from the strength, and he spoke:

"Listen princess, I ain't here to hurt ya, if ya keep ya hands to yaself. Yer type is all alike, youse the ones who gets upset when the truth is spoken. You get paid to make men happy," he paused when her eyes meet with his, refocusing from her into what he was saying, he continued; "The good Lord knows ya hell of alot prettier than the usual dolls, and hell of alot dressier. But princess youse can't fight the truth, so a dollar is it?"

She tried to pull her wrists away but his grip was iron clad, trying to wrestle them away would do her no good. Where in the hell was a copper when you needed one? She shifted a little, as he held her wrists tighter; letting his grip encircle them to the extent she began to loose feeling in them. It was then she realized why he was picking on her, why his friends were letting him. They thought she was a prostitute, a loose girl that they might pick up with some extra change. Anger filled her head, yet from a stand still fear, which she knew was blazingly showing through her eyes she did or said nothing, but let his gaze slice right through her. It was a gaze that seemed to last much too long.


	3. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Thank you to those who have reviewed and especially to those with comments on formatting and proofreading it truly helps and I am so thankful people are reading this story, I have over 270 pages written (double space) but the story is incomplete still. I am inspire at the moment to focus on editing and rereads an when the time comes I will continue at random. Again thank you and my best to you all!_

**DISCLAIMER---The majority of the newsies (NAMES!) in this story are from Walt Disney's film "Newsies" I am in no way taking credit for them as my characters. Moon, Rat, Vicky, Tub's…ECT. Are all my characters and I do take credit for them. Thank you Disney for making such an amazing movie.**

**---This is for anyone who has fallen in love with this movie as well…**

"Seems like she thinks she's better than us Spot, whaddya think Conlon?" the girl let her eyes wander to a tall red head not more then four feet away behind the one whose gaze wouldn't leave her pained face. Conlon surveyed the broad in front him, she was beautiful, she was stunning, hell she was the most gorgeous girl he had seen in a long time in Brooklyn, or any of the city, he knew most of the guys were thinking the same thing. She was a natural beauty, he wondered if she knew such and because of it felt she was better then the rest of their low lot, he looked her over, she no longer fought him. Her face was molded almost, with slightly rosey high cheekbones slightly rosy cheeks, and had a regal appearance.

He wondered about her age, placing her between the ages of sixteen to twenty knowing she was necessarily going to be as old as she looked. She was not terribly tall, shorter then he was, his eyes swept down over her attire. A velvet green traveling dress hugged her willow frame, perhaps she wasn't what he had pegged her as or perhaps she had been doing quite well. Her lips were pressed together right now but they were a naturally light pink. A matching green bonnet had been atop her dark brown locks with what seemed slices of blond, it had been lost when Spot had yanked her towards him. Her eyes deemed an intense passionate blue with flecks of green, and gold. And the wrists in which he held so tightly were thin, her hands tiny and feminine.

Spot didn't bother to answer his comrade back. Instead he focused on her face, especially her eyes in which he could see that terror had formed and yet she held her face so well it was only those eyes which away her fear. Leaning close to her face and to keep his ground he snapped harshly at her:

"Ya afraid of me?"

Her answer came much quieter then he had expected it was rather meek, he had expected to hear her snap or at least yell back at him. Yet instead her voice softly replied in a whisper:

"No."

He lowered his head so that their eyes were even, her sapphire eyes taking in every movement he made as if they were calculating and trying to stay continually a step ahead of him.

"Then why do yer eyes show it, they give ya away…?" he said this quietly, only loud enough so that she heard it. The guys behind him thought he probably was teaching her a lesson and memorizing her face she so if they ever perchance were to meet on the street again he'd remember her, and she'd remember who she had dissed. Almost immediately he began to realize she wasn't like the typical street bird, not the usual hussy on the corner in Brooklyn. An uncanny aire of sophistication surrounded her in a way he hadn't seen blanketing the other whores he'd come into contact with.

"Because I--"she didn't finish her reply, Spot reudely interrupted her, loud enough to be heard if someone listened but not overtly loud as he'd been when he'd first questioned her.

"Ya ain't a whore are ya? Yer new ta Brooklyn, ain'ta?" His eyes shone with the discovered truth she knew she couldn't hide from or at the most even lie well to cover up. She found herself answering him honestly in a voice that sounded so distant from her own:

"You're correct."

"So whats yer name princess?"

"Josie." She simply replied with the nickname only people closest to her ever called her, but why not make a new life and try it with a name that held so much hurt, she was no longer to be Jocelyn. Here she was being held in all senses against her will but also was the chance to break out on her own and actually survive. A burning sensation rested on her lips with the realization how a simple name could actually make all the difference. He nodded, with his right eyebrow raised a little almost as if it was shrugging at her. He slowly began to release his grip upon her wrists, which she was most grateful for, and he saw relief wash over her face. Blood flowed back into her hands almost immediately Josie felt the sensations of pins and needles surge through. She lowered her gaze away from him unsure if she should step away from him or stay there. He made the decision for her.


	4. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Again I truly appreciate all the reviews, I didn't honestly expect such a wonderful response to the story. You all make it worth continuing. I am trying to do better with grammar as I will be honest; it is not my strong point in writing. But I am trying! Please keep reading and commenting. I love to write for those who love to read! Oh and ps this is definitely a longer chapter, the problem is I have a really hard time breaking up my story._

**DISCLAIMER---The majority of the newsies (NAMES!) in this story are from Walt Disney's film "Newsies" I am in no way taking credit for them as my characters. Moon, Rat, Vicky, Tub's…ECT. Are all my characters and I do take credit for them. Thank you Disney for making such an amazing movie.**

**---This is for anyone who has fallen in love with this movie as well…**

"Well Josie princess, why dontcha come to supper with us this evenin', and we'll have a little chat as to why yer in my territory unannounced…whaddya say?"

Josie wanted to step back from this whole event and pause the moment and try to understand what was going on. Should she accept the invite? Was it really even an invite? Was he trying to buy her body? But he didn't look like someone who would try to make her a prostitute, however he was a stranger and seemingly he was somehow important within Brooklyn. He waited for her answer, and when it came he fully released her wrists, she looked down at them and saw that they had turned a scarlet coloring which matched his cheek.

"Alright," she answered once again in an almost whisper, and as he began to walk away, she grabbed her bag and followed close to him. Although she didn't understand it, her nervousness towards him seemed almost to evaporate, but the others with him still made her feel like she had to be on top of her game. They walked several blocks in the opposite direction of where she had come from until they reached a small beat-up diner on a corner named simply _Rosie's Vittles. _He led her and the rest of his apparent crew in the single brown door which led into a well lit diner baring people who looked similar to these boys and also some older men whose look-over at her gave her the absolute creeps.

However almost all the younger patrons in the restaurant greeted this leader of the pack as Josie had pegged him to be. He continued to lead her through the diner with the sickening feeling that all eyes where on her, which was the case, but no one gave hoots or hollers or cat calls. As Spot passed by whispers broke out amongst the group, as everyone wondering as to who the pretty gal was. And what she was doing with Spot, she didn't look like the girls he usually hung out with. He finally stopped at a small table towards the back with only two left of the original group that he had walked in with. Josie looked around seeing they had all slipped off to other tables, now chatting in low murmurs with one another. All were casting glances towards her, as Spot picked a seat facing out and motioned for the others to sit wherever they like. It was after the four were seated and had ordered with the boys going for a full meal having not eaten since early that morning and Josie still unsure of everything staying safe with stew and a roll. Her stomach ached, but she wasn't sure if was from hunger or anxiety or fearful combination of the two. Spot, as Josie had learned his name yelled out from their table:

"Whaddya all lookin' at? I know ya'll seen a girl before, so start actin' normal and get ya damn eyes off of her." Josie was surprised when they complied with his command. He then turned his attention to Josie.

"Alright I already know yer name is Josie, but whatcha story princess?" he said with a look in his eye that threatened her not to test his patience. Josie shifted uncomfortably, her ordeal was her own private issue, she didn't know these people, and on impulse tried to take the conversation in another direction.

"I'm sorry, but who are you…what exactly do you do? Because if you think I'm going to become a prostitute which I'm not then I should be going if that's the case because I--" once again he cut in on her.

"First of all we ain't pimps, secondly we thought ya was a hookah at first but yer too refined I know, See, we got what some might say is a bad habbit of pickin' on the women of that line of work. For who we are, I'm Spot Conlon leader of the Brooklyn Newsies and these is my main boys Moon and Rat. Now Josie who are ya and why is it someone who looks like she oughta be livin' in the mayor's house in Brooklyn all by her lonesome?"

She looked away at the other two guys, anything to get Spot's eyes off of her. It was then she noticed the outspoken red head again only now his hair seemed darker, she shrugged it of thinking it must be the lighting in the dark diner. It wasn't his hair color which bothered her, but the way he sat with his eyes intensely on her. He hadn't been named by Spot but he was the one who had made the comment earlier about her thinking she was better then the rest of them. He continued staring right at her and then nodded in a motion that turned her attention back to Spot. She sat back in her chair, finding all the attention most uncomforting. She grappled with actually telling her story to these absolute strangers? She sucked in her breath, seeing that the leader called Spot was getting impatient as his fingers drummed in a bored fashion on the weathered table.

"Well do you want the long story or the condensed version?" she asked shakily, Spot answered for the group very quickly.

"Fer us, the condensed, fer me some day I wanna hear the long." He answered arrogantly as if he knew she would agree to this and spill out all her little secrets.

"Okay…" Josie stumbled over her words and quickly gave the short version in a simple sentence, "I was not wanted any longer, and I was not needed, so I was told to stay away after being left in Brooklyn. I'm on my own now…I guess." Her voice was unsteady as she tried to catch her breath. She watched as Spot reached over and accepted Moon's offered cigarette, he took a deep drag before responding to her.

"I see so do ya know this city well?"

"No, I was from the upper part of Manhattan, I mean I know I'm in Brooklyn right now but I have no idea to know where I am going." Moon chuckled at her comment, but shut up quickly after Spot shot a deadly glare at him.

"I see, so whaddya exactly plannin' to do to survive now that ya folks booted ya out?" she pondered this as she listened to his deep accent. Three and half years in this city, living only in Manhattan, sheltered as much as possible one would think she'd have a hard time understanding the New Yorkese accent. While Josie may have been disliked by the majority of her family, she had always listened to and taken to heart acting on the advice her father had taught her.

One particular piece had been she was never going to know where the next kind person would be or who could be a trusted friend, and to base such on social standings was next to blasphemy. He'd taught her to weigh her judgment of people by following her heart, not what the upper stratosphere of wealth had told her to do. Because of such advice as a child out west, and in Manhattan she had befriended the local help and had spent enough time with them listen through a thick accent. Her own biological father had never thought twice about an evening spent playing cards or swapping stories with the hired help. Her father had been a good man, he was the deemed virtue of everything a child was taught, her father deserved more then he ever really had gotten. But then again her father had not been born rich and made his money the old fashioned way—with hard work. In her mind, his only mistake was marrying her mother, it was for a love that was not returned. However, this had not been realized until after the realties of marriage set in. Too good of a man to leave his undeserving wife on her own, he had served her the best he could until his untimely death. Hearing the drumming of fingertips again, Josie snapped back into the present with a quick and honest answer:

"I honestly do not have any idea."

Moon spoke up and suggested she look for work in the factories. Spot sent another glare in his direction and stated:

"Moon ya damned bonehead, I ain't sending this girl off to work in them hell holes. She'd never make it." Josie looked from one to the other, on her left was Moon, his darkened face was curtained by shaggy black hair, handsome to the naked eye, but there was something more to him within his deep gray eyes. Even to her it was apparent he wasn't offended in the slightest by his leader's insult with his eyes still holding onto a lingering playfulness.

Rat then suggested that Spot decide what to do with her. Rat was meeker looking; with sandy brown hair and dull brown eyes that sunk into his long face. Albeit while Josie didn't know it, Rat was one of the best fighters in Brooklyn, while Moon was more of a talker, yet if need be he could soak someone. After all they were Brooklyn boys, the Newsies under Spot Conlon, and with him words wouldn't necessarily get you anywhere.

After all being a Newsie definitely wasn't the worst way to live, just a bit more challenging than an orphan. It held a freedom almost all of them craved, and by being a Newsie they ran their own present day future. Josie took everything in with her eyes, and felt the image of their three faces memorized in her mind. Both Moon and Rat where tall, Rat probably taller than Moon, but Moon's body looked more lean and muscular, yet somehow Spot still held a fearful presence over the two males. Spot replied as if he knew all the answers that were needed.

"I intended to Rat…whaddya good at? Can ya lie well?" Josie found this question to be quite strange. If she answered the truth would they harm her though? Josie wasn't too bad at lying, the help she had befriend at the residence had helped her survive that snooty life with lies; they had taught her to lie, to fool her step father most especially in his rages. He tended to have a strong dislike for Josie from the start but in his drunken rages he could be right down abusive, she wanted to shudder at the thought of this, but she knew she had accomplished lying. She would have done just about anything to keep him away from her. He attacked her abusively on a daily constant even though a majority of it was verbal.

When her step-father wanted things done and said in the way he liked them, Josie lied at any cost to keep him happy. Sometimes however, he still saw through the lies and manhandled her with the painful smacks to her face. He would humiliate her at any cost to prove he was the ruler; that he owned her, but she would not yield. Josie wouldn't give into him, so eventually he tired even of his own game and had written off her presence from the family. Now she was free, but then why did her stomach still ache so. At times like this how she missed her real father.


	5. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Okay so to those who are still reviewing THANK YOU! You make this so very much worth it. At request of one reviewer I am going for longer chapters however my updates are going to be less often so please do not lose heart since they are no longer daily. But if a majority would prefer daily then let me know! To those whose stories I am r&r do not worry I am somewhat tight for time but I will so get to your stuff! I have become hooked into some really wonderful stories. Again thanks guy and please continue to review. _

**DISCLAIMER---The majority of the newsies (NAMES!) in this story are from Walt Disney's film "Newsies" I am in no way taking credit for them as my characters. Moon, Rat, Vicky, Tub's…ECT. Are all my characters and I do take credit for them. Thank you Disney for making such an amazing movie.**

**---This is for anyone who has fallen in love with this movie as well…**

In her heart Josie ached for her father, she ached for his love, how she ached for him now more then she had after his death four years ago. Four yeas ago she had been numb with grief, and now she swallowed her pain and refused to shed tears. Funny how she could not remember the last time which she had let her tears fall without fear of being found out. Crying was not acceptable, not with her mother, not especially with her step-father and most especially not with the hierarchy they claimed stake too. And still her tears would have to be pushed back with an even tougher façade as she assumed without question that crying would not be acceptable in front of these boys. To Spot she replied;

"I can lie alright; I am not an expert---why?"

"If I'm takin' ya in my group of Newsies ya need to be able to improve fer the often rotten headlines." Spot's voice was firm, as if the decision was made. The food came and they ate mainly in silence, until Josie spoke up feeling as if it might help to settle her fears.

"I have to be honest I don't know anything about selling papers, I mean I'm not complaining I just have no idea how to do it when it comes down to it, I've seen Newsies before but not close enough to--" once again Spot interrupted, Josie was beginning to wonder if he would ever let her finish a sentence.

"You think I am just gonna send ya out there without a bit of some basic trainin'? Nah Josie princess yer gonna start selling with me or one of my main boys. You start tomorrow."

Josie nodded while taking this all in, this was a good step forward especially with a measly two dollars to her name. Her step-father had conveniently left out until it was too late that Josie would not be returning home with him, so she had not packed enough money for reserve. Now she cursed herself inwardly for her stupidity. Now she would have to find a place to stay and her mind went into overdrive thinking of all the necessities she would need. It was as if Spot was reading her mind as he continued:

"And ya can live with us at the lodging house, Keebs ain't always that happy 'bout girls staying with us, but since yer workin' with us I got the feelin' he ain't gonna care. So eat up so we can get back I am so damned tired."

Josie felt a sigh of relief flow out of her, until she realized she had in her mind a question on something he had not addressed. She finished her soup and wrapped up the bread for later. They paid and as they headed out the door Moon said he need to take care of a little business with someone in Harlem but he'd be back for the bell in the morning. Spot just dismissed him with a nod and said;

"Just dontcha get yer ass kicked back here like you did 'fore." Moon glared at him, but just simply said playfully:

"Night ya bastard. Goodnight Miss Josie." She smiled a weak smile and bid him a goodnight in return. The common use of vulgarity surprised her some as the hired help at her step-father's hadn't been as quick to swear. Although unbeknownst to Josie that was usually because even the walls had ears, and then very much to her surprise Spot yelled after him:

"Watch yer language 'round the princess!"

After Moon left, Spot pulled Rat to the side, and instead of going with Josie and Spot he returned into the diner. He started to hand Josie her bag back, which he had offered to carry, but Spot snatched it before she could. They slowly started towards the Lodging House with Spot talking a little bit more about the Newsies, but mainly leading her through the streets. She finally felt calm enough to ask a question a less shaky voice:

"Spot, do I have to dress like a boy, like do I have to pretend to be one?"

"Nah, well if were gonna be by yerself which I ain't gonna allow. Are you'se afraid of pants?"

"No although I do not own any."

"Well I'm sure we can remedy that, how are yer shoes, they alright?"

"They are all I have but comfortable enough."

"Good 'coz tomorrow yer gonna walk to hell an' back again." With this he had expected a response and when none came, he stopped abruptly beneath a street light. As people whisked past them, he gently pulled her arm so she stopped and turned to face him. She looked up into his eyes, and he saw that bright blue eyes were still clouded over in fear. He gave her a reassuring smile, a Spot Conlon special, and sat down on the steps outside of a building. In doing so he motioned for her to join him. She did so and quietly sat trying to fully understand everything that had happened to her as she waited for him to speak. When he said nothing she looked back at him from the spot of cobblestone she had been focusing intently on, it was then that he spoke:

"Listen Josie girl, I don't know yer story at all except for whatcha told us in the diner, but we ain't helpin' you to hurt ya. It's just I figured you bein' new to the streets and all, well that you would need a helping hand to get started. Unless ya wanna end up in the girls refuge place, which whether you think you do, I assure you, ya don't. I have the strangest feeling ya ain't belivin' me, and I'd like to change that." And then there was the reason Spot didn't tell her which was the actual reason, but to tell her, he'd have to kill her. Josie had been one of the few girls to ever stand up to him.

Josie nodded her head slightly still not having looked away and yet was pondering with all heart and soul why a complete stranger had no qualms about helping her, and taking her off of the street. _Kindness comes in all forms my lil petit babe Josie Anne, just remember your own hand may not be enough to help you always, remember no matter the form, the kindness was sent there for a real reason and in any form, just let it help you_.

Remembering what her father had told her, and the thought of the talks they had had, the advice he had always shared, made her feel warmer within instead of the empty coldness she often felt, perhaps the opposite was happening now with his advice coming into play. She kept her face steady as she responded to Spot:

"Why though? Why do you want to help me if you do not even really know me, why are you trusting me, and helping me when I don't even know where to start to help myself, I do not even know if I'll ever be able to pay you back or what but…" she let her voice fade, she didn't know how to do on, Spot spoke up when he figured she had no more to say:

"Josie, you ain't here for us to get paid back someday, we'se all the same in one sense or another. In this place we are all friends or enemies and sometimes both." He stood up and Josie immediately followed him. She stayed close to him as they walked a few more blocks until they reached an older brick building with a tan sign reading in peeling black letters **'BROOKLYN'S NEWBOYS LODGE'**. Josie hesitated a minute knowing that when she walked through those doors she was starting a new life; it sent freeness into her spirit and cautiousness into her mind.

As she entered behind Spot, Josie felt the eyes of those already back flickered straight onto her. The heady attention made her uncomfortable and she wished she could disappear. Spot continued to lead Josie to the other side of the largely open downstairs. To the right side at the end there was a tall wooden desk, roughly cut into what Josie guessed from what might have been at one time a separator. There was an older man, perhaps in his mid-fifties Josie guessed standing behind it. As they reached the desk to sign in Josie saw a book filled with names. She also noticed an older woman sitting down behind the desk; she looked to be near the older man's age as well.

"Keebs this be Josie, she'll be stayin' with us." Spot said with a nod towards her. Keebs shrugged and with a friendly face welcomed her with a suggestion, with just an echo of a faint Irish accent.

"Fine with me, now sweetie I just got one suggestion---sign in as Joseph, I ain't really 'sposed to have girls stayin' here, but a few here and there and there's only one other permanent so that if I get a visit from the City they ain't on to me about a few girls stayin' here."

"Thank you," she smiled at him, keenly he noticed, this girl must have had one hell of day, it was a story he knew that he would hear sooner or later. She signed in as _Joseph Williams_, purposely using her father's last name. Keebs also caught sight of her beautiful penmanship, as Spot signed with a quick and messy _S. Conlon_. He tossed down a few pennies for their night and headed over to the other side of the room when the woman next to Keebs spoke up in a deep Southern accent.

"Honey if ya need anything at all ya come see me ya hear. I'm Georgia, but everyone 'round these parts calls me Georgie, and I'm here almost all of the time. So come see me if you ever need anything alright?" Josie nodded, and turned to see that eyes were on her. Spot saw this too and spoke up:

"Josie come over here; meet some of the other boys." She walked quickly over to Spot where he stood over a group of five.

"Dis is Slim, W, Joker, Sid who sometimes is known as Red Mike depending on what part the city yer in, and the one and only Catty McMally we call 'em Cat. Boys this is a new member of Brooklyn, this here is Josie." She gave another feeble smile, and let her eyes wander over their faces which in the dimmed light seemed they all blended together and looked the same. But Josie felt a shiver go down her spine as she connected Sid's face with the one who looked her over now as he had earlier at the diner. Josie kept quiet while they conversed about their day. It was finally around 10ish when the boys were all getting ready to play a game of poker, Spot asked Josie if she'd like to head off to bed. Josie readily jumped at the opportunity to get some sleep. With that he motioned with his hand for her to follow him, and as Josie did so, the five echoed a goodnight to her and Spot, which she returned in a soft voice.

Spot lead her up a flight of stairs and down a skinny hallway, which had six doors; there were four on the right, and two of the left. They entered the second door on the left into a much smaller room than Josie had been expecting. The room contained two sets of bunk beds and a single bed pushed in between. Only one set of the bunks looked quite lived in, while the other bunk looked barren with old woolen blankets its only keepers. The single bed was obviously already taken.

"Yer face looks full of wonderment, so let me spell it all out fer ya. The single is mine, that bunk to the left on the bottom is Moon's and the top's fer Rat. You can take either bed on the other bunk, now 'fore ya say anything, there ain't a room fer just girls. So it's us three or one of the other rooms with all boys, the other girl here Vicky sleeps in her boy's bed with him, which Keebs don't know so we'd appreciate sleepin' arrangements to be kept on the down low." He set her bag down next to the bunk and continued. "The other bunk is fer certain special guests."

"Thank you, I'll take the bottom one." Josie said feeling very awkward about sharing a room with boys. Spot headed over and sat down on his bed. Sleeping quarters and certain bunks were the only real thing a Newsie could lay claim to as his own, you didn't mess with a Newsie's given bunk. There was the typical large common bathroom across the hall, but next to Spot's room there was also a very tiny bathroom that worked sometimes.

"Sit on a down Josie, take a load off, stay a while…" Spot motioned for her to sit down, she found herself complying with him, sitting down she was facing him. She took off the matching jacket to her travel outfit and fiddled with the buttons. Still trying to let everything settle in her mind she pulled the bag up onto the bed with her, as she rummaged through it she found she had to speak:

"Can I ask you a question?"

Spot situated himself so he was facing her: "Sure, whether or not I answer is me own choice." He gave her a playful smile in which she regarded as friendliness.

"Why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I do what?"

"Today, earlier why did you lower your hand?" her voice remained steady and his gaze turned serious as he locked her eyes with his own.

"Well Miss Josie princess, it really ain't in my nature whether you believe it or not, to be beatin' girls." His proclamation was said with such vigor even Josie herself was surprised when she pressed further.

"But you had your hand raised and…,"she didn't finish; Spot had looked as if he had something more to say to her.

"Yeah, and I can also tell that youse been smacked more then once, who was hittin' ya, yer old man?"

"That's none of your business."

"I admire yer sprite, I really do, but I ain't blind, look at me, am I lookin' all that blind to you? C'mon I was angry when I raised me hand to you. But even so I ain't never had quite a run in with a girl. But I ain't into beatin' up on girls, never have been, but Josie tell me was it your old pap?"

Her face was sullen, she let her face soften a bit and pulled her knees up onto the bed and under her chin. Spot continued to watch her closely, even now she seemed stiff in the way which she rested her head, a curl fell out of her done up hair, and she didn't pay much attention to it. She always kept her hair up, as it was ladylike and practice to do so, but some days all she wanted was to leave it down and not shoved up into a tight bun. She felt very self-conscious suddenly; aware her hair was falling out of place, something she never felt, but then again day in and day out for all of her life she had been surrounded by people she knew; now she was in the presence of a stranger.


	6. Chapter 6

Self-consciousness came with a stranger and immediately she was ashamed for even thinking of caring, beauty was not expected of her; she could fully be the Josalina her father had raised her to be. And while her mother insisted on her birth name be written as Jocelyn, only her mother and the horrid stepfather and that half of the family called her that.

To anyone who loved and really knew Josie, they knew her name had been Josalina from the day she was born, Josalina Ann, she was named for a Mexican beauty her grandmother said who had been a grand friend of hers growing up just above the border. Her family did not have any Mexican blood in it, but her name was strong and proud, how Josie really loved her true name. No one had called her Josalina since the day her father had died; perhaps her unrecorded name had ceased with her father. Josie felt herself sucking in air in tight breaths silently, she said nothing to Spot but found herself reaching for a shoe and disbanding it from her foot.

"Answer me…,"Spot's voice was not sharp like her step father's had been, in fact although he was voicing a command, it sounded more like a question, why did she feel so trustworthy of this person, she had barely known him a day yet, only a few hours and she felt as if his presence had been once she'd embraced all her life. He reminded her of Elliot, her older brother who had disbanded for England two years ago, she missed him, but was glad for Elliot he got out of that damnation of a house before their stepfather could break him, Elliot had not recovered from their father's death when he left, but he had promised his younger sister, he would one day come back for her and promised to take her everywhere his travels had brought him, yet he'd naught returned, with no written word coming.

"My step father, he was a man who liked things his way, and only his, and if one did not agree, one, well it seemed only I, but one got a harsh slap to their face. I was the model to beat upon, to show what would happen if we didn't let him rule us, he had to rule us, without that power the shallow, soulless leech had nothing." Her voice had not grown angry, only more tired, but her eyes seemed surprised she was telling Spot all of this, even he was surprised she was complying, girls like this did not open up to guys like him, they always thought that they were better, and bought a paper out of sorrow, something a Newsie never wanted unless it was well deserved.

Spot would never sell a paper using false tricks of crips, and sickness, he'd improve the truth because as a great pal of his Jack Kelly often quoted to unbelieving newbie Newsies, 'Headlines don't sell papes, Newsies sell papes.' He led his gaze to the clouded face of this new girl. This girl he had taken under his wing metaphorically speaking, a girl who wasn't cut out of them same fabric as he was, he was the poor dirty cut, and she already was the refined and tailored expensive cut, yet he had not detected this air from her. Only the green grand outfit and the earrings, the earrings-he stared closer at them, those suckers were real. They were diamond studs, he remembered them this afternoon when they had thought she was a prostitute, but being a prostitute he had figured they were fake, but now he wondered aloud if they were real.

"Those sparkla's real princess?" he asked more as a spoken thought, then an actual legible question. She felt odd being called princess, but he didn't say it meanly or as to make fun of her, she let it slid, she let the word roll out of his mouth and into her ears, she was far away from being a princess.

"Yeah, I guess they won't be needed here much," her voice was normal, it sounded even, it was a female's sweet melodic voice. She reached up with her small but thin hands and quickly removed the studs, showing them deep into a little black bag, which she shoved into her rose colored satchel. In turn she pulled out a gray sweater in which she wrapped around her, it was not a new sweater, it had been wrapped around her body, or someone else's numerous times, the ties were flimsy Spot could see even from his bed. He got up and headed for the door, only stopping when he reached the door, turning around and asked:

"Well I'm headed down to see whose loosin', ya wanna go Josie?" he asked as he slipped his suspenders down and pulled his over shirt off to reveal long underwear which was a faded white. Spot's manner and his kindness mixed with gruffness and toughness she felt closer to her brother Elliot now with this new acquaintance then she had in the five years since.

"Actually if it's alright with you, I'd rather go to bed, I uh, I mean I don't want to be rude, I jus…"

"Princess its fine, sleep well." Even Spot was surprised at how mild he was towards her, he tipped the pageboy's cap upon his head and headed out towards the stairs and down into the crowded and smoke filled lounge room, filled with onlookers of an intense poker game. Josie whispered a 'goodnight' after him as she pulled off her skirt and hung it over the jacket. As she slid into bed, she gently tugged on a string from her grey sweater; she always slept in the gray sweater if she was chilled. It had belonged to her grandmother, and Josie held it dear, trying to find any lasting scent on it as Josie always did, knowing that after three and half years there would be no scent left—not of her grandmother, nor of the west. Josie pulled the pins out of her hair and decided from now on she might be able to leave it down some as she blew out the lamp and was almost ready to fall asleep.

But something began to urged Josie to read the hateful letter once again, she wasn't sure why, maybe it was what she needed to read to make sure she wasn't having a nightmare. Getting out of bed, she relit the lamp closer to her; it shone brightly in the darkened room. Reaching under the bed, Josie pulled the letter out of her satchel and began to read it once again, feeling anger rise in her throat at the part about her father, he was much better than this man. She felt her eyes burning and brimming with tears, but strength was something Josie had learned to acquire and she put it to good use. Slipping back under the thin covers, forgetting about the light, Josie squeezed her eyes tightly as she began to forget about the lamp and the letter, letting it slip out of her hands as it fell onto the flood. She drifted off to sleep as she hummed a melody which was the most familiar song to her in all her life; it was the same lullaby her grandmother had sung to her when she was still a child:

_Moon River, wider than a mile,  
I'm crossing you in style some day.   
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,  
wherever you're going I'm going your way.  
Two drifters off to see the world.  
There's such a lot of world to see.  
We're after the same rainbow's end--   
waiting 'round the bend,  
my huckleberry friend,  
Moon River and me._


	7. Chapter 7

There was just something about that girl; maybe if Spot got to know her better, he would know what bothered him about her. He couldn't put a finger on what he felt he needed to know, hell he already knew her general background. But shit Spot, he thought to himself, you don't actually _know_ anything for sure about this girl, hell she could even be lying and be just some runaway. The truth would come out eventually; it always did with those hoity toity types—they never could keep their mouths shut. Only, henceforth to Spot, Josie had not seemed terribly hoity or toity, save for that flash of a temper he had seen; it had briefly fanned out and she had been quiet and mostly meek ever since. His thoughts were broken when Sid called out from across the card table.

"Hey, hey Spot didja tuck her an' give her a hell of a good night kiss?" The gang laughed with him, but Spot shot him a look that told him if he didn't knock it off, Spot wouldn't think twice about soakin' his ass. While Spot and Sid were of the same height, Sid could defend himself for the most part which is why Spot kept him around, albeit he wasn't a favorite of the Brooklyn leaders. Sid knew Spot could soak 'em, and if pushed to one of his moods of rare form Spot might just do that. Spot pushed through the small throng of onlookers, making it to the table he sat down despite having not been initially in the game, but no one said anything to him nor did they care too. He started playing on the next hand, refusing to be spotted a few hands, and went to town; winning and losing.

While most newsies had headed off to bed by one am, Spot and a few of the boys were still playing for keeps. Spot looked up from his atrociously dealt hand, cursing himself since he had no chance in hell of taking this round, regardless of how he played, when they were rudely interrupted by an obnoxious couple, who the second they walk in were loud and laughing. It was Vicky and Tubs waltzing in as Spot decided to just ignore them, and for once without a look from the leader they quieted. Vicky let Tubs puller towards the side of the game, and began to kiss her, as if they had all paid to see the two all muck it up with each other's faces. While Tubs was a large boy, he wasn't fat with he had a temper worse than an angry bee if provoked, but he was for the most part a stable newsies at eighteen. He was asked often by new Newsies why he instead of Spot wasn't the leader, he simply responded with an answer that took no thought:

"I ain't the leadin' type, Spot's my leader and that's all there is to it ya knucklehead." Then he would throw his head back and roar with laughter. He wasn't terribly bad looking either, faded brown hair constant hid his light brown eyes, and his face was chubby with the slight chisel of features. In fact it had surprised even Tubs that he had been a rare hit with the ladies before Vicky came. Perhaps that was part of the reason the dark haired Spanish orphan who had since long ago adopted a Brooklyn accent for much of the past eight months had lived permanently at the boarding lodge. Tubs had gotten her off of working on the streets, her previous professions rarely were ever mentioned. On the other hand, Vicky had a horrible temper to whom Tubs was usually the victim of, but then he was the peacemaker. He had uncanny knack for calming her from the worst of moods, and so she willingly gave herself to Tubs in every way and expected with all of her heart to marry him someday.

"Alright ya two, take it t the bedroom, I ain't in the mood for ya two beans to be swappin' spit and ruinin' a purfectly good poker game, now knock it off, or git up there." Spot vented his frustration as his broken concentration. The two broke their embrace as Vicky snapped at Spot, ever quick to anger.

"Spot Conlon, youse just jealous that you ain't gots yaself a new girl since that last one dumped ya sorry ass on the side of the road, when she headed for one a Cowboy's newsies, which by the way ya never did soak 'em…" Spot rudely interrupted anger forming in his eyes, that girl had a never ending mouth.

"Shut ya fuckin' trap Vicky."

"Ya Spot, well too bad ya never got to Tweezles, he's since headed outta the city, Cowboy wouldn't let him stay after that stunt an' some his other tricks. Youse buddy had ta do the so-called 'soakin' fer ya…" Rat cut in on her this time.

"Vicky shut the hell up, do youse ever stop yackin'? And since when are ya so chummy wit Kelly, ya callin' 'im Cowboy?" She gathered her dirtiest look and shot it his way. Tubs stayed silent, feeling quite at home while the few shot comments back and forth. This arguing had become a mainstay; it was common late at night when they were all cranky, and he and Vicky had interrupted an intense poker game. Sid, always having a dislike for Vicky after midnight spoke up.

"Shit Victoria, Spot's gotta a girl up there right now so 'fore youse start shootin' arrows at him, take a look around and realize youse ain't known the news of the day." Vicky arched her eyebrow in surprise, Spot glanced at her and felt his anger surmised with a stifle of laughter. "Hell forget this." Sid threw down his card as Spot let a low catchy laugh out, much to the surprise of everyone in the room.

"Spot youse gots a new girl, and she's living here, what did you do, pay her?" Vicky assumed, yet her voice dripped with sarcasm poorly hidden, inciting even her own surprise.

"Eh hell Vic, I ought to lie to yer mug and say I gots me a new girl, but she ain't _me_ girl, she's a new pal, a new newsie if I shall indulge that much information to ya." Spot concluded with a tone that meant the conversation was on her part over. Vicky only nodded, and Tubs smiled at her, he saw the surprise, wonderment, and excitement that flooded her eyes, there were several girls who had come and gone in the time she had been there. Yet none of those girls had ever taken a liking to Vicky, feeling the boys were the important one. While Vicky was rough around the edges this much was true but she had a good heart, given the chance she could be a faithful friend. Spot saw right through her and replied:

"Dontcha try makin' her yer best buddy, she ain't goin' to the factories downtown with you to work, she's bein' a newsie with me and me boys."

"Spot Conlon how could you even think about making her a newsie? That's terrible, that's…." Annoyed, Spot cut her off.

"Tubs get her outta here, she's pushin' me button's tonight." Vicky took less than kindly to Spot's chastisement, snapping:

"Fuckin' piss on ya Conlon." Vicky snapped as Tub's gently but forcefully pulled her away from the remaining boys.

"Jeez, that goyl absolutely drives me nuts, if I didn't like Tubs so much I'd walk her over to the brothel myself." Spot rambled on crankily as Rat threw his cards in, the game was over.

The two headed off to bed. Surprised to find a lamp still burning when they entered the room, Spot noticed the letter hanging laying negligently on the floor. She for the first time that day looked somewhat more peaceful, her eyes were closed, but her little mouth was open slightly, her head was tilted to the side. Josie's hair was down, he noticed, and it was wavy with curls. Her breathing was shallow, and she did not wake when he picked the letter up. Rat was in the washroom making no nose, so that the others could sleep. Spot tossed his cap down on his bed as headed that way reading her letter.

Spot found himself stricken with guilt that he had ever disbelieved her. In his hand was the truth—letter was real, and her stepfather was a terrible tycoon, friends with the paper people, he'd seen the name in the papers often. "A great friend, a great benefactor, a great humanitarian," rather a giant asshole was more like it. A loud crash in the washroom startled Spot and Josie stirred in her sleep, but did not wake up. Spot headed for the door as he heard angry voices start in on each other in the washroom.

"Goddamnnit Vicky can't ya fuckin' pee in the ladies room, if yer the lady ya claim to be--"

"Rat if ya weren't so busy pissin' in the dark and frightenin' me when I went to turn on the light--"

"BOTH OF YOU!" Spot snapped angrily from the doorway. "Finish up and go to ya respective places, and Vicky, Rat here was only goin' in the dark so not to wake her up. Git off 'is back." Vicky just huffed and walked out of the unlit room and back into the larger of the two main lodging rooms, voices swearing at having been woken up. Spot left a muttering Rat, spouting every swear word in the book after her. Spot continued to read the letter, and stopped by Josie's bed, when he was on the last line of the letter, when he heard another loud crash, and more angry voices, almost all directed towards Vicky. Ignoring them he found himself anxious with how loud everyone was that Josie might wake up. Unfortunately she did, and at first she had to get a familiarity of her surroundings, she recognized Spot with her letter. He stood next to her bunk…holding her letter. She wanted to be angry, she wanted pure hot anger to register in her face and voice, but the more she tried to get angry, the more sleepiness got in her way.

"What are you doing with that?" she asked, softly, much softer then she had wanted, she wanted to be accusing, she did want to trust him. But the fact remained she had just met him and here she had caught him red-handed rifling through her things!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So I am trying to make a better effort to update this twice a week, but I promise to definitely do it at least once a week, and I definitely always appreciate reviews—good and bad but skip the nasty. I do apologize for the shortish chapters, I am hard at work on another fan fic, and have a hard time at the moment doing large chunks of this one. Alas everyone I hope you have a great weekend!**

"I saw it on yer bed, I picked it up, and I, uh, just was glancin' at it." Spot said, feeling guilt for reasons unknown to him; it was an emotion usually foreign to his being. He watched her tired looking face, any peacefulness and trust that had been there was now wiped clean. Josie looked as edgy and distrustful as she had at their little encounter this past afternoon.

"If you had asked I would of let you read it, honestly. I have _nothing_ to hide." Her tone was smooth as stone, a catch hung in her last words. Spot waited a long moment before he responded to her: "I—well…if yer goin' to be here, no secrets need to be kept, unless they are so dark even youse don't believe them, but why didn't you show me this before?" Josie watched his face, he spent nothing on emotion, but in her own self, she was growing more annoyed by the moment as she snapped in return:

"Are you accusing me from keeping this from you on purpose?"

"No, well maybe but the point--" Josie interrupted him, her voice filled with grievance and frustration. "Listen I don't have to show you anything." Josie felt the heat rush through her, as her face turned stone cold and resentment showed upon it. She sat up quickly to try and bodily emphasize her point, when she saw that wasn't working, she hopped out of bed, her sweater flying open. Spot's eyes were laughing at her, but he kept a stern, pissed look that she read as, _you'll do what I say_. Josie shook her head; she was sick of being told what to do and by whom. As Spot began to reply to her she snapped at him irritably: "If I don't want to show something to you why in the hell should I have too? Well? Why on earth should I ever have too, I may have accepted your generosity but it doesn't mean I subjected to body searches. ALL you had to DO was ask!" She over-emphasized then bit her lip tightly, and did something she had done earlier in the day. She stepped back from him, because his laughing eyes had turned to pure annoyance. She felt the fear she had earlier rush through her. He let her do this, and then he spoke, she thought she had crossed the line.

"Step back all the hell you want to, but like I said before Josie I ain't gonna touch you in anyway. If you want to be all secretive—fine BUT you ain't gotta be so goddamned defensive." The several newsies, who had gathered at their door, were surprised to see Spot handle the matter with such a delicacy, this was not his usual manner, what in the hell was it about this one girl. She wasn't even a girl who was sleeping with him, nor did it seem the intention was there.

Instead Spot's anger reappeared as he noticed the crowd of viewers, scowling Spot snapped at them: "Does this look like some kinda show, get back to yer own beds, scram!" Vicky surprisingly did not make a comment in retort, only rolling her eyes at the vile being the boys called a leader. Without a word, Spot left Josie and headed out of the room with the letter, still in hand. Josie wanted to run after him, and demand her letter back, make him feel like a fool as he had made her feel humiliated. He must know that, her step father had always done the same, only her step father had never given a second thought to stepping back from hurting her. In the eerie silence surrounding her ears, Josie lowered her head in shame and let her memory play vicious memories. She tried to hide from them by falling back into the bed and pulling the covers up over her ears, but her step father's brutality followed her even here.

_'You think you'll ever be worth anything Jocelyn, anything at all. No, you'll never be worth anymore then my slapping bag.' A harsh smack to the face._

_'I own you Jocelyn, you know it, I know it, the sooner you bid my will the sooner you and I can move on into a happier life.' His hands were wrapped about her arms as he shook her so hard she thought her head might roll away._

_'Your father wasn't worth the horseshit on the street and neither are you; I'll smack some sense into that ugly asinine head of yours.' The night he had said that to her she had experienced the worst of his handiwork, albeit being drunk he left more than a handprint on her as both of her eyes were swollen shut the following morning_, further memories attempted to slip into her mind but the voices were quickly silenced as someone touched Josie's shoulder. She jumped at the feeling having been so lost in the terrorizing thoughts. She glanced up surprised to be looking into a girl's face. Her eyes were dark, matching her messy hair, falling all about. She had a streetwise face with a Spanish complexion, and yet in her face was understanding, an emotion which Josie rarely experienced at the courtesy of others.

"Don'tcha worry 'bout Spot, he's actin' like a fiery ass with a temper to match. I'm Vicky, Tubs gal. Are you alright sweetie? He ain't gonna touch ya, he gets pissy, but as long as I known Conlon, he's kept his word towards women even the one's he's fuckin', and most men." Josie nodded trying to absorb this without allowing the shock she was feeling to paint her face. This world she had fallen into, it was beyond her wildest dreams even if she had spent time with servants. To say she was out of her league was a nice way of putting she didn't have a clue about what to do.

"I'm Josie, why don't you sit." Josie wrapped the grey sweater tightly about her, the woolen fibers stretched in their antiqued state and continued around her with much give.

"Oh I would love too. But I gotta get back to Tubs."

"Oh sure, I uh…well it was nice to meet you." Josie said stupidly.

"Like wise girl. I hope to talk to you more later. Night Josie." Josie waited until the room was empty before crawling under the covers, the wearied exhaustion took its toll on her, and as soon as she had begun to fret about the future she was asleep.

"Conlon we keepin' her here? Or she gonna be too much trouble?" Rat asked as he sucked on a cigar he had won in the poker games before Spot had joined.

"She wouldn't be a problem if she'd just shut her goddamned mouth, I can't stand how Tubs just lets her run that trap, he never says no to her. And now as well as I can see she's wantin' ta transform Josie into her pet." Spot responded, and then took a weak drag of his cigarette. It was no secret that Spot and Vicky weren't fans of each other and never had been, if it weren't for the fact Spot was so fond of Tubs, his gal Vicky would have been out on her ass months ago. But if she continued as she was, she would find herself on the other side of the door come some night soon; no one held any patience for her these days. Rat broke his quiet revere as Spot absentmindedly continued smoking his cigarette.

"Don't kill me 'ere Spot but what the hell was in that letter that Josie got so pissed at you for?"

"The truth." Spot said, his tone grim, his cigarette burnt out, he dropped it onto the street below as he reached into his pocket, fishing out a new one, lit it and took a deep drag as Rat asked confused: "She was lyin' to us?"

"No it just was the gospel truth."

"Oh," was all Rat managed as the two continued smoking, he had never been much for words although it was Rat who spoke again. "She's pretty Conlon, you gonna make her yours?"

"Hell no, she ain't the kind I wanna keep here forever. She is pretty, hell she's goddamned beautiful, but unless she's just a passin' by fuck, I ain't got much use for her in that way. I'm done with relationships; women ain't nothin' but goddamned trouble once you let them cross that line. She just needs our help; I ain't all bad despite what a majority of my exes might tell you." Rat chuckled lowly at that comment, but did not initially respond until he said off the cuff: "We'll see, I'm heading to sleep."

"Don't wake 'er, I wan 'er to sleep, maybe it'll cool 'er off." Spot continued to take heavy drags on the cigarette, ignoring Rat's comment.

"Alight I ain't gonna, night." Rat headed in and quietly slipped in the room, with the lantern still burning, low but bright, she wasn't facing him, so he couldn't tell if she were really asleep, but she didn't turn around. Rat pulled off his pants, and shirt, only in long underwear, he slipped over to the lantern and blew it out, she turned over as he did so, and he caught her sleeping profile. Josie wasn't too hard on the eyes at all so why in the hell wasn't Spot trying to bed her at least. If they could only get along, they might be perfect for each other, there was something about the way things had played out over this past day he felt funny having her just sleeping across the room from him. She looked tiny in the bunk, Rat bid her a silent 'goodnight' and slipped into bed, falling asleep fast, and not once thinking to wonder where Moon might be.

Spot folded the letter back up and slipped it into his pocket, deciding he'd take Josie by herself with him selling tomorrow; he wanted to have a little chat with her. He threw down the tiny amount of cigarette left, not bothering to stub it out. He figured if it burnt New York City to the ground, then everyone else would be on hard times just like himself.

Josie felt someone shaking her shoulders, slightly rough but at the same time it seemed with as much gentleness as this one person could manage. She tipped her head up, and squinted into the dim light, burning her eyes. It was Vicky, and it was cold as she could imagine Antarctica would be in the room.

"C'mon girly, get yerself up, get in the washroom next door, be ready before they can get on yer case 'bout slowness."

"Ok…" Josie sighed a bit, and slowly pulled herself out of bed into the icebox, her feet freezing at the touch of the wooden planked floor. Josie surveyed her roommates and saw Rat and Spot still sleeping, it appeared Moon must have slipped in at sometime early on because he was also in his bunk. She grabbed the pair of chocolate colored pants, and a white button down shirt with striped. She let Vicky, nowhere being near dressed pull her to the tiny washroom Josie had been in the previous night. Vicky pushed her on the toilet and turning her slightly insisted on doing her hair, which when Josie tried to protest, Vicky threatened to get Spot up on her account. Not anywhere in the mood to be dealing with Spot, taking it he wasn't necessarily a morning person Josie complied at least with her, she was too tired to argue. Vicky brushed out Josie's hair, all motherly-henlike, insisting she put it up, tightly and painfully she pinned Josie's hair much like it had to be done to be kept proper. It was only then she let Josie have a word in edgewise.

"This really is terribly nice…ouch…uhm…but don't you have to get ready for work?"

"Oh NO! I don't have to be there until 8:45, I'm not one to rise until 7:30 usually. Livin' with boys makes it somewhat difficult to still be feminine; you know if we girls, wait I mean young women, didn't have to be so proper your hair would be beautiful down." Vicky kept on with mindless chatter, trying her hardest to get Josie talking, but Vicky never broke stride, Josie yawned and it seemed that Vicky paused as they heard boys rising in the other rooms.

Vicky excused herself as Josie quickly slipped into the fresh clothing, and standing to face herself in the mirror, she loosened her hair a bit, without taking away from the tight pinned job, at least not enough for Vicky to notice. Vicky seemed a little overbearing, but Josie noted she was kind and willing to help her. She slipped out of the bathroom and walking into the room unannounced found herself a bit embarrassed to walk in on a half clothed Moon, Rat and Spot all with only pants and suspenders on.

"I am so sorry, I should have knocked." she swallowed harshly and looking away from the trio headed toward her bunk.

"Don't worry about it Josie." Moon said first, Rat said something to the same effect but Spot said nothing, the three quickly finished getting dressed, while a brightly flushed Josie reached for a pair of socks, and then pulled on her shoes in a timely manne. Rat and Spot headed for the washroom, while Moon pulled on his own shoes as he tried a light hearted attempt at conversation. He was the only one who wasn't aware yet of the events occurring the previous evening. He had only fallen into his own bed after four am this morning. "So how'd ya sleep las' night Josie?"

"For the most part well, look I'm really sorry I…" Moon cut in on her what he saw in his eyes was unnecessary apologizing. His black hair fell into his eyes as he tied his second shoe and then pulled on a fairly darkened gray pageboys cap. He was tall, lean and handsome if she had been forced to admit it.

"Don't worry about it, trust me after you live with us guys for a bit you'll be more than used to seein' us, ya won't give a damn." Her face stayed very still and she only nodded, loosely picking up her bag, she began to rummage through it. With a scared realization Josie, knew immediately Spot had the letter, her letter, and the letter that told her she was an outcast. Why did he have to keep it she wondered, was he going to use it against her somehow? It wasn't like she had lied about it, damn herself for leaving it out last night. Moon watched her silently; almost worried that she kept so quiet, her features were pained looking, and yet even then it was apparent to him Spot had picked a real beauty. He kept staring at her, not on purpose but she was the only person in the room. This was until he heard Vicky's shrill voice, once again at odds with someone. Moon got up and headed into the bathroom to find Vicky battling it out with Sid this time.

"Goddamnit Sid, ya dropped the soap unto my shoe on purpose."

"I did not, ya think I'm gonna drop the best bar of soap unto yer shoes when I can use it for my fuckin' mug. Why you even in here Vicky—use the damned girls' washroom!"

"Whatever, I know you better than you know yerself, and you sure as hell did drop it on my shoe!" Moon grinned as Sid angrily tried to defend himself. Spot threw up his hands in disgust and snapped at both Tubs and Sid. Policing his own crowd, it was a sad morning when Spot Conlon realized his life had come to this.

"Tubs get that beastly woman outta here I simply cannot deal with her at six thirty in the fuckin' mornin'! And Sid get outta here before you cause any more trouble."

"Spot I ain't…" Sid said, a look of mutiny flit across his face momentarily, but not quick enough for Conlon not to see it, narrowing his eyes he said caustically, "I don't want to hear it!" Spot walked out of the room in disgust. It was cold out in the hall and he quickly walked into his room with huff. Josie looked up at him with crystal blue eyes, bewilderment written across her face. He didn't owe her an explanation for anything, instead saying:

"Youse sellin' wid me today, an' we'se gonna have a lil chat." He said this with no emotion as wild thoughts flew through Josie's mind, he offered no further explanation, but when she didn't response he snapped a bit too harshly at her: "Ya deaf, ya heah me?" She just nodded her head silently. She was in no mood to argue with him, his temper was not something she wanted to deal with first thing in the morning, she had already had had two tangles with him, and another one this morning was not the idea she had in mine to get started.

"Good then lets go, I ain't wantin' to be stuck at the distribution office all day." Josie got up and pulled her green jacket on her, Spot said noting of it as she followed him down the stairs. Other Newsies were still just half dressed, and getting ready, watched with surprise as Josie followed him willingly. The walk to the distribution center warmed up Josie slightly, with little cold puffs of air stoutly coming out of them; Spot's pulled out a cigarette and quickly felt his fix fed. Neither spoke, Josie walked quickly to keep pace with Spot as she noticed a sling shot hanging out of his pocket. When they reached the center, the gates were closed; he pulled her quickly to the side as a horse pulled wagon with papers entered and more Newsies soon joined, he tugged his cap down further.


End file.
